o prima vera !
italian suns burn hazy over me
wandering in these woods
for a thousand years
stumbling thru the warmth
the lovely girls and good companions
drink food laughter
wine and brown flesh
the clear rivers and their grumbling stones
sweet creatures lap from its waters
we paint our faces with masques
in the haze of an eternal morning
making simple music in the open air
we live at the centre of the world
at the centre of time
our rough bread and our virgin olive oil
our strength and our youth
our victories
the deep earth yields up her bounty gladly
the rain falls in gentle downpours
birdsong in the forests
harmony , melody
call and response
fruit ripens on the tree and vine
men and women slip off together
somewhere
the sun moves into midday
and shadows vanish
children dive in the river
blue kingfishers and skylarks
at dusk eventually
after the long afternoon
the sun appears red and huge in the sky
a crescent moon shortly follows
a tiny star at its southern point
under trees we prepare long tables
we sit and talk and drink and eat into the night
the night mingles in the wine
which becomes dark and sweet and strong
hands take your hand
leading you into the darkness
lips whisper at your ear
fingertips find you tenderly
in the warm black spaces
and you find your way home
while the spirits of the trees guard your bower
and the spirits of the night walk abroad
and in the black-blue sky
shooting stars arc across its dark face
music seeping from far away
celebration of springtime
this blessed planet
this holy night
this memory of joy